"Oh, don't start," Jason says, rather crossly. "Out of everyone in this gods-accursed city, I am not the person you should be coming to for validation or affection or whatever the hell you think this is. You've invited yourself into my home as some sort of parasite clinging to my arm. It is not 'cute', it is invasive behavior wrapped in a guise of non-threateningness, and the only reason I'm not taking steps to throw you out right this instant is that I damn well have other things to worry about."

He turns on his heel to wrench open one of the drawers. There's candy-silverware in there-- Twizzlers shaped into forks, a lollipop spoon-- and he scans this array in great disgust before slamming the drawer shut again.